The Sonographer & The Vending Machine

I don’t know why I hadn’t considered that a maternity department would be full of pregnant women, that’s a bit like opening a tin of Quality Streets and being surprised to find chocolates, and yet there I was, surprised by the room full of women rubbing their stomachs accompanied by their awkward looking partners.

In the waiting room there was a skylight covered in what looked like mould, and the walls were full of wonky posters that had words on them like ‘Whooping Cough’, ‘Spina Bifida’ and ‘Babies Cry’. I think it’s fair to say the tired room probably reflected the funding and resources the department had, not that the staff let on as they did their best to reassure everyone in the room with big, if not affected, smiles. This didn’t change the fact that as soon as you walked into the room you knew your appointment was going to be delayed. The big question was by how long. Confidence wasn’t high when someone in a blue uniform appeared from a corridor at the end of the room and called out “Tara Renshaw”, only for the woman opposite us to let out an audible cheer of relief as she stood up. We were in for a long wait!

I don’t know if it was just my nerves coming through but the room felt tense. I guess I’d expected a maternity ward to be a jubilant place filled with couples excited to be taking their first, or perhaps fourth or fifth, steps into parenthood, but it was clear that everyone in the room was feeling cautious. If you were ever going to receive bad news about how your baby is developing it’s here! 

This was mine and Charly’s first time in a maternity department and we were waiting for our 12 week scan, which is sometimes referred to as a dating scan. In other words, this was the first time someone was going to actually check on our baby. Our only confirmation that we were pregnant so far was a piss soaked stick (the only thing covered in piss I’ve ever been reluctant to throw away) and Charly’s lack of periods. Charly had also had some pregnancy symptoms like sore boobs and queasiness but even she would admit her symptoms have been mild. There was certainly no physical sign of a baby yet. I had a horrible image in my head of the sonographer going to scan Charly’s uterus only to find there’s nothing there. I began to realise how strange it is that you can get to this stage of the maternity process and the only thing the NHS has to go on that you’re pregnant is your word that you did a test.

I started looking at the stomachs of every other woman in the room to try and see how much of a baby bump they had in a sort of fleshy version of ‘Play Your Cards Right’. If the woman who just stood up is 20 weeks pregnant then is the woman next to her’s due date sooner or later?

I was really trying to see who else might be there for their 12 week scan and, of those women, did anyone else have a bump yet? I decided that Tara Renshaw wasn’t ‘showing’ so surely had to be there for a 12 week scan, except when she came out from the room with the sonographer she was rubbing her stomach and a baby bump had seemingly appeared from nowhere. I was now more worried.

I should stress that although I was anxious I was also cautiously optimistic. Wanting to find out that your baby is developing healthily is bound to bring a certain level of anxiety, but I also knew that there were no obvious signs that anything was wrong. It’s a bit like pre-ordering something off Amazon and not receiving the confirmation email for 8 weeks, you know that you did everything right, and the payment has gone through, but you’re not going to rest easy until you’ve seen that confirmation. I’m not sure how much my future child is going to appreciate being compared to an Amazon parcel. In fact they’ll probably be appalled that I ever used Amazon! Just wait until they learn how much I love sausages.

Charly was noticeably more tense than I was so I was doing my best to make idle chit chat and keep things light. I dutifully went and got her a cup of cold water and decided to treat myself to something from the vending machine, only to realise I was perhaps more tense than I thought when I couldn’t figure out how to use the ‘tap and pay’ option on the machine. I therefore abandoned the dream of an ice cold Pepsi Max. It didn’t help that I had a full waiting room as an audience for my struggle, helping me become the idiot that can’t use a vending machine in the minds of many. At least, I hoped, I provided some light relief for the otherwise tense faces.

Although Charly was more tense than I was, that didn’t seem to reflect the tone of the room. Every pregnant lady in there looked relatively calm, if not just a little anxious, and they were all, without exception, accompanied by a terrified looking man. I genuinely nearly laughed out loud at the difference on more than one occasion. 

In front of us was a couple where the poor bloke had his head in his hands the entire time. Of course this observation comes without judgement, you never know what news individuals in the room may have received, but it is worth noting that his partner was smiling and seemed relatively calm. Another gentleman a few seats along was simply staring straight forward with a shell shocked look on his face that sincerely suggested he’d just seen a ghost, an old ugly naked one at that. Again his partner, by contrast, seemed relatively calm.

After just shy of 40 minutes, a short but robust looking lady in a white uniform came round the corner and called out “Charlotte Rochford”. 

It was show time. 

As we followed the uniformed lady round the corner Charly said, “This is John by the way”, a sentence that genuinely seemed to floor the midwife.

“You know I’ve been doing this job for years and no one has ever introduced their partner before”, she exclaimed in delighted bemusement.

“Oh wow, that’s surprising!” Charly retorted, but the woman just laughed and repeated herself. 

“No one has ever done that.”

She was so impressed that once we got in the room with the sonographer she told him that Charly had introduced me, before turning to me and saying “You must be special.” I had no idea how to respond and now felt a weird pressure to perform even though the only thing I could do for the next 10 minutes was sit there. I suppose it speaks to the tension that most women must feel in the maternity department that it doesn’t occur to them to introduce their partners. Either that, or this lady was doing a very good job of trying to relax us.

As we got in the room Charly hopped onto the bed and before I knew it she had her top up, her trousers undone and a man was rubbing a gel all over her belly. In any other circumstance had I walked in on this I would be well within my right to kick off but all I felt at this moment was a cocktail of nerves and excitement. This was the moment of truth and before I had time to think there it was, a baby, very visibly moving and kicking, right there on the screen. I was stunned, shell shocked almost, as the relief flooded over me and all I could do was break out into a big goofy grin and exclaim “Wow!”

“There’s the heartbeat” said the sonographer in a way that let you know he was smiling as he said it. I turned to Charly who was clearly overcome with emotion, tears welling up in her smiling eyes. I moved my chair closer to her so I could put my hand on her and we watched for the next five minutes as our future child moved around the screen. They seemed to be pumping their fist in the air like they were listening to their favourite song at a rock festival. 

“Does everything look healthy?” I sheepishly asked because, although everything looked good, we hadn’t had any confirmation yet. 

“Yes, they look very healthy,” the sonographer replied. 

“Amazing,” I beamed.